


rainbow glitter ink solves all problems

by tenderwrites



Series: #ushitenweek [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: ADHD!Tendou, Emotional Constipation, Fluff and Humor, Holding Hands, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, Mutual Pining, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 20:07:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20747987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenderwrites/pseuds/tenderwrites
Summary: The calamity. The woe. The disaster.Befallen Satori was a collection of all those three tragicomedy themes combined and to make things worse, he had absolutely no idea what to do in his time of crisis.Fortunately, he had one saviour that saved him from imminent crash-and-burn.





	rainbow glitter ink solves all problems

**Author's Note:**

> #ushitenweek2019: Day 1 (Confessions)
> 
> It's finally here! I had all sorts of ideas for Ushiten Week 2019 in my head but this meant the most to me. It features Satori trying his damnedest to work out his feelings and gets an ending which he never anticipates. 
> 
> Enjoy!

He stands in the doorway of his best friend's dorm room, someone who he'd known since middle school. 

In the midst of his crisis, he was the most reliable person around. Reon and Jin were unavailable, after all. This truly wasn't a chance occurrence; Satori was fully aware of what he was doing, which was quite rare. 

Therefore, he tapped his foot impatiently (anxiously) and rapped on the poor door that had been abused since their first year. 

He was amazed the wood even held for so long but that wasn't the point right now. 

After 3 more series of similar knocks, the door is thrown open and he's greeted with a storm of ash blonde hair being held up with hairpins. Normally, Satori would question the hair choices but he's in too much of a mayhem to bother much about ruined hair roots. 

Eita gives him about 5 seconds to state his purpose but he gets no answer. Sighing, he initiates, "What is it?" 

"Eita, you  _ have  _ to help me. This is serious!" 

"On top of the other multiple things I'm currently helping you with, sure. Is this an emotional constipation problem or do you need someone as support in your hyperfixations?" He snorts at his joke. 

Satori almost laughs.  _ Almost.  _ "This is no time for snark! It's a real problem beyond those issues!" 

Eita's self-absorbed smirk turns downward and his hands grip the other's shoulders firmly, with grimness hanging like a dark cloud over his face. 

"...Sorry. What kind of issue is it? How can I help?" 

"Oh, it's bad.  _ Really _ bad _ . Pear-shaped  _ bad. Catastrophic, even." Hands card through crimson hair roughly and he follows the other into his room, and plops down onto his bed advancing between levels of un-composure. "I don't even know how to handle it!" 

"That isn't exactly a new thing for you. But what's got you so tied up in knots?" 

Satori hides his face in his hands and exposes only his eyes, which stare down at the blank nothingness of Eita's bed sheets. He wants to say something, anything, but the images that dart about in his brain as if they're living creatures spare him no space for thought or proper communication skills. 

His cells are throwing a party right when he needs them the most and he curses his apparent idiocy. 

"...Shit _ . _ " 

Eita's eyebrows raise just an inch and he sits down opposite of Satori, with his legs crossed on his desk chair. He wields a sticky notepad in his hand and a rainbow glitter pen in the other. 

"That bad, huh? Here. Write down whatever's bothering you." 

The glitter pen's status is of a miracle worker, as a boy's inherent struggle with his own feelings is written as a plea on a new sticky note. After some furious scribbling or so later, both items are pushed back to their owner and rightfully returned. 

The sticky note is folded up carelessly and the pen certainly needs replacing, but it conveys a genuine message. 

Satori snatches up the nearest pillow to cling onto after he's done and he sniffs, pulling at the cotton-made animal in his arms. 

Eita expects at least some tear-jerking paragraph or a poem detailing a tragic event from the way the other scrunches up his face. Maybe even a drawing, but all that's written in smudged glitter is a name. 

" _ Wakatoshi _ ? He's the one that's bothering you?" 

Satori's toes curl together at the mention of the third year and his head nods fervently. 

Strange. The third year has never made an effort to disturb anyone intentionally, unless it was because he felt uncomfortable or someone invaded his personal space. For all that was worth, Satori would never dare to do those things. Sure, sometimes he could be loud and excitable, but he respected privacy. 

What was  _ really _ going on?

First things first; Eita needed to find out the source of the issue. "How does he bother you?" 

The stuffed giraffe finds itself suffocating in Satori's grasp but the only one that's turning red from possible asphyxiation is Satori himself. 

"He's--I--agh, I don't know! Something about him just steers me way off kilter and most of the time, I waste hours trying to stay on track when I'm studying and get  _ nothing _ done."

"Steers you off? Do you spend those hours thinking about him or something?" 

Eita wholeheartedly did not expect the other to straighten up and desert his only source of artificial comfort, but he watches in amazement as Satori backpedals to the edge of the wall as if he's been cornered. 

_ Jackpot. _

"I-I--I mean--I need to think about him at times, he's my teammate and I practice with him too, like everyone else and--oh god, I'm in  _ love _ with him, aren't I?" 

"I was going to stop you at 'teammate' but you saved yourself from denial. A job well done." Eita claps once and flings the now useless sticky note in the bin nearby. "So, what are you going to do now? 

"What do I  _ even _ do?  _ Confess _ ? It'll be the end of the world, won't it?" Satori pleads, as if searching for some divine intervention to answer his prayers. 

Eita rolls his eyes. "First of all, the world won't end. Secondly, yes. Go confess." 

Satori huffs frustration through his nose and spreads his arms out on the familiar bed that he's already on. "I hate that you're right. But what would I even say? ' _ I like you and want to go out with you? _ '" 

He hugs his knees and brings them together, words competing for first place in his head. At times like these, he wishes that he could at least gain some clarity of mind once in a while. 

"Something along those lines, yeah. But if you want to make it more meaningful, try adding in what you feel about him and what he means to you. It helps to make it not so awkward." 

The third year takes a breather to consider his options. He and all the other third years are due to leave in one or two months' time, leaving the team with all of their hopes and fears. They'll most likely take on a new dynamic with new players and the second years taking charge. As for them, they'll go to university or take on some other life route, parting ways and only coming together again when holidays arrive. 

Personally, Satori can't even fathom the idea of being separated from his friends, the people who accepted and laughed with him when he made a joke or few. He would consider 3 years to be a long period of time, but when he thinks ahead to how long they would be apart, he would rather not graduate. 

Especially Wakatoshi. Oh, Wakatoshi. He was an honest, undulating spirit that stood out amidst the backdrop of clouded society. He was impressively mundane, yet had an air of endearment about him. His social skills lacked real weight but somehow, that was just one of the things that Satori adored about him. 

It brings a nervous smile to his face, but the wild beast that was his heart only grew in strength and tormented him. 

"...tori.  _ Satori _ !" 

"Ah! I'm here, I'm here! What were you saying?" He nearly falls off the bed, just to come face-to-face with an Eita that seems to have aged another year older. 

"What I  _ was  _ saying, before you waxed poetry about Wakatoshi in that head of yours--" Satori averts his gaze back to the giraffe, expecting it to defend him as an attorney of sorts. "--you should do it in a letter. Or even a drawing, since you're good at it." 

If Eita was trying to tame the wild beast, he certainly was doing the  _ exact opposite _ . 

"That's easy for you to say. But it's hard for me to do! And flattery will get you  _ nowhere _ ." Satori jabs at his nose and Eita crosses his arms the way a PTA mother would when negotiating with a supermarket cashier. 

The supermarket cashier is Satori and he's the manager as well, so he's the boss of this situation. He can make his own choices, which is to retreat back to his room and hopefully, get the wherewithal to compress his indescribable feelings on a sheet of paper. 

Eita the PTA mom can suck it. 

"Who's flattering who? It's an undeniable truth and you know it, dumbass." 

Satori blows a raspberry in disagreement. "Psh, alright. Thanks for the advice  _ and compliment _ , Mr Right. You gonna work on homework now?" 

"What other choice do I have?" 

"You could totally blow this joint and go join your insect brethre--" 

An unidentified flying object gets thrown in Satori's general direction and he ducks it with practiced ease, finally cackling like a witch. 

" _ As if. _ My grades are bad enough as it is." 

"Fair. Maybe go get Kenjirou to tutor you, or something." Satori comments casually and gets a full fond look in return. Eita's features soften and the hardened edges of his face relent, if only for only a while. 

"I will. You know, Wakatoshi might sa--" 

"Eita." He mumbles, his tone dropping to a low note. "Don't." 

His hopes aren't exactly the highest right now, so such fantasizing isn't necessary. 

"Ah, sorry. But if you ever need help with the letter, give me a call or something. You know where to find me if it becomes something of dire straits, yeah?" 

"Yeah. I'm glad I can depend on you." 

Satori feels as if he's choking under the pressure but Eita doesn't allow him to wallow in it. He always pulls him out of the ravaging waters that he finds himself swirling around in and drags him back to dry land. Even though he's not the best mood reader, he tries his hardest to and the effort is appreciated. 

"Save the niceties for graduation, alright? I'm not used to this side of you." 

Sticking out his tongue as one last final word in, Satori closes the door as Eita waves to him. 

Taking in one stuttering breath, he shuffles his way back to his humble abode. He's sure that he left his phone in his room and the tunes are still playing, but even the calming and soothing music do little to calm his frenzied state. 

\---

The deed was fairly simple to accomplish: walk up to Wakatoshi and Hayato's dorm room, knock on the door, request for some extra practice and see how things went from there. 

Except it wasn't that clearly defined at all. Satori nearly ran away when the door opened but forced himself to root his feet to the floor. The words that came out of his mouth were shaky and lacked courage. Worst of all, the icing that made up the collapsing cake was Hayato wanting to practice with them, his kneepads already fitted on. 

"Let's go!" He'd said with his youthful heart nearly leaping out of his chest and Satori did not have the heart to turn him down. 

Satori showing up to invite them to do so was anticipated too. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary either; the three of them practiced together frequently to polish their all-rounded skills: attacking, blocking and receiving. No one could find fault in a spirited soul, so blaming Hayato was frankly unfair. 

_ But what kind of cliche shounen manga trope was this? _

A true love's confession, stopped unintentionally by a friend of theirs, who third-wheels even without being aware of it. 

Alright, he could work with that. He was flexible in more ways than one. 

And sure enough, the perfect chance presented itself, in the form of Wakatoshi heading to the gym toilet to have a change of clothes. 

" _ Hayato _ ." Satori whispered as menacingly as he could but the intended effect fell flat. "Hayato, my beloved partner-in-crime, you have to understand two things." 

"Sure, what are they?" He proclaims close to maximum volume and a finger is shoved in his face, shushing him. 

"First, this practice is a  _ confession _ in disguise. Second, you're third wheeling hard right now bro." 

" _ Bro _ ." Hayato's eyes shine like distant burning stars and the waves of glee bounce off Satori. " _ Oh shit _ . You're actually doing it!" 

The feeling when the moment is at its peak is contagious and they find themselves sharing in it. 

" _ Yeah!  _ I wrote a letter and everything, because I'm too nervous to say anythin--wait a minute. How do  _ you _ know?" 

"You're kidding, right? Literally everyone on the team knows except Wakatoshi himself. Nobody would miss your pining gaze and all those deep questions you asked him." The whites of Hayato's teeth peek out and he grins, his full blessing reflected in it. 

Satori's head takes a nosedive towards the ground. His dignity has been shattered. He can never recover from this. 

"Are you two alright?" 

It must have been a strange sight to see, with Satori's arms sagging towards his feet and Hayato pumping the air with his fists. With the way they were behaving, it was a possibility that some soul transference had taken place but Wakatoshi decides against it.

"Y-Yeah! I'm fine!" Satori jolts up as quick as lightning, thoroughly startled by the sudden intrusion. 

"Same here!" Hayato puffs up his chest and exudes an air of confidence. Beside him is the cart of volleyballs and he picks one up, as natural as if the conversation never took place. 

_ Smooth.  _

"Let's get started, shall we?" 

\--- 

Disappointment is a merciless slave driver, as the exertion he feels is heavier compared to all the other practices. 

Satori takes a large swig from his water bottle, as if he's trying to drown in it. The water spurts free and some of it dribbles down his shirt, but he feels much too forlorn to care much about shirts that will dry themselves. 

Today could be considered a bust by his standards, by all means. 

His blocking was lacklustre as noted by Wakatoshi. Even though he still managed to deflect some of his spikes, the hot-bloodedness reflected in his eyes was a faded colour. If the one thing he loved the most about volleyball lacked its usual drive, the rest of his skill sets followed suit. Balls spiralled out of his wrists and fell beside him as even perfect setups were missed. 

He was distracted, as a matter-of-fact. 

The pain of having to stay behind of extra practice when even Hayato had left is a real hard pill to swallow. He takes the wet part of his shirt and buries his face in it, wiping his sweat and postponing any confession plans for a later date. Practice and graduation was still ongoing and he had plenty of chances. 

Satori sees Wakatoshi striding up to him and dumps his water bottle back on the bench, preparing his soul for the announcement of countless other things he didn't meet standards for. 

But all he does is ask him to pass his water bottle over. 

"Good practice today. Are we still eating dinner with the team later?" 

Satori's eyes almost pop out in disbelief and he jumps up from the bench. "D-Dinner? But I sucked really bad today." 

"Even the most skilled player has off days sometimes. Having one doesn't remove your right to food." 

Without having any meaning to, Satori lets out a snicker. Trust Wakatoshi to make him see the silver lining, even though he was the very person that made him want to assume a new hairstyle. 

"Can't argue with you on that." He remembers the letter stuffed into the pocket of his shorts and wants to retrieve it, but he overrules the decision to do so.

Doing it now would be too much of a shock to even consider, since the phrases and sentences that are written in there expose the deepest vulnerabilites of his emotional capacity. 

Furthermore, this confession isn't the end be all of all things and Satori can afford to be friends with Wakatoshi for a little longer. He treasures his friendship with him much more and if it doesn't seem like the right time, he can be patient. He's waited before, after all. 

Even if he's breathless at the way their knees fit up against each other, Satori can stick around by his side for as long as he can. 

"Yeah, the usual ramen place. I wonder what I'm going to ge--" The flipping of a sheet of paper draws his attention away and he wonders what's Wakatoshi up to. 

_ Oh, horror of all horrors. _

The same exact piece of coloured paper that he'd taken apart his desk drawer for sits snug in Wakatoshi's hands. He's already reading the letter, the words up for display like some sick art gallery. Satori pats his shorts pocket and comes up empty, or rather, pats bare air. 

He gulps and feels his digestive organs shift their positions south. 

If he had considered himself at a loss of what to do before, this took the huge cake. 

Satori doesn't know what to say or how to react. He can't read Wakatoshi's expression as his hands grip the edges of his shorts, his brain going into overdrive. He can feel the tears bubbling up behind his eyes and he commands them to  _ stop _ , but the fears that dig under his skin gnaw at his old wounds. 

He can feel his lungs burn but before he can fully fizz out, Wakatoshi clasps their hands together. 

"Satori." He drawls, in that calm tone that often drags him back to reality and anchors him. "You've liked me since Year 1?" 

The prettiest red that he's ever seen blooms across Wakatoshi's face and Satori hastily wipes at his eyes, surprise a new constellation dotting across the sky that is his face. 

"...Yeah, I have." 

The ace of the strongest team in Miyagi squeezes his hand as if he doesn't want to let go. A rope pulls taut in Satori's throat and he uses all of his strength not to  _ squeak _ , but the glow of his blush already speaks volumes. 

_ He's so cute.  _

In an effort to reciprocate effectively, Wakatoshi drags Satori up to his feet and sticks his heart to his sleeve like a promise. 

"I--I love playing volleyball with you. You always find a way to make me smile when I don't know how to. I never expected you to like me back, but you do." 

He stops and thinks for a moment, but Satori's language acquisition is completely left blank. 

_ He's still holding my hand. Wakatoshi is holding my hand! _

"I don't know if us liking each other is on the same level, but I want to explore that with you somehow." Wakatoshi caresses his thumb over each and every one of Satori's fingers and he gasps for air on a virtual snow-capped mountain he never knew existed in his being. "Being with you feels like I could spike a thousand volleyballs, so will you go out with me?" 

The simple yet genuine confession delivers its full force  _ and Satori thought he was the one confessing.  _ Yet, he clutches his sweatshirt and feels the steady and rapid pace of his heart thunder in his ears. The only difference from before is that the tendrils of fear that once held him by a chokehold is now a quivering, small creature. 

He laughs. Not at it, but out of triumph. 

The newfound hope that freedom from fear brings provides nourishment to the blooms that flower in the form of a grin. 

"Of course I will! I really didn't expect this because I was planning to do this later. You're strangely sweet just by using volleyball idioms, though."

"Later?" Wakatoshi fixes Satori with a quizzical glance and he whistles in agreement. "What was the reason?" 

"Confession fears and nervous jitters, something along those lines." He admits, but the wild beast snoozes and the fuzz that makes up its exterior only seem soft now. 

"Ah." Disappointment flashes across Wakatoshi's face like a slideshow but it disappears just as quick, when Satori spins both of them around to dance to the invisible beat of a song in his head.

He's much too elated to care about what he's doing. 

"Now you're not just any super volleyball idiot, you're  _ my  _ super volleyball idiot!" 

Owlish eyes regard olive eyes with all the fondness that it has to offer and Satori's hands reach up to cup the other's cheeks. He leans forward to begin his short journey home and finally, his forehead connects with Wakatoshi's, which signals the end of his lonely efforts. 

Warmth fills his veins and he laughs, but this time the ripples of laughter expand and Wakatoshi shares in the innocent happiness that Satori exudes. 

He smiles and presses up against the point of contact, like his left hand touched paper for the first time and started filling the page with colour. 

If this was what loving him felt like, he wanted to keep it in the palm of his hand, easy to lose and hard to hold onto. 

With Satori, however, he's sure that he'll overcome even the gravity of all that was insurmountable. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
